"And, Victor, in the course of the day, you'll make some errand to
Brier Hill, and incidentally mention it to Mrs. Atherton. Richard
won't tell her, I know, and I can't--I can't. Oh, I wish it were--
"

"The widow, instead of you," interrupted Victor, as he stood with
the door knob in his hand. "That's what you mean, and I must say
it shows a very proper frame of mind in a bride-elect."

Edith made a gesture for him to leave her, and with a low bow he
withdrew, while Edith, alternately shivering with cold and flushed
with fever, crept into bed, and fell away to sleep, forgetting,
for the time, that there were in the world such things as broken
hearts, unwilling brides, and blind husbands old enough to be her
father.

* * * * * *

The breakfast dishes were cleared away, all but the exquisite
little service brought for Edith's use when she was sick, and
which now stood upon the side-board waiting until her long morning
slumber should end. Once Mrs. Matson had been to her bedside,
hearing from her that her head was aching badly, and that she
would sleep longer. This message was carried down to Richard, who
entertained his guests as best he could, but did not urge them to
make a longer stay.

They were gone now, and Richard was alone. It was a favorable
opportunity for telling Victor of his engagement, and summoning